


like night and day

by minhyukwithagun (deadlylampshades)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, I call this the "Everybody is Miserable" AU, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, just general misery tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 03:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlylampshades/pseuds/minhyukwithagun
Summary: “Do you believe in fate?”Yoongi’s answer was soft. “I thought it was fate when he and I met.”“If it was fate, why isn’t he here now, and I am?” Kihyun said.-Kihyun looks at Yoongi and he thinks he can see their entire future together, that he can be with him forever. But Kihyun's stoned, and they're both taken, and it would be a bad idea -and they just keep having bad ideas.





	like night and day

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for: drug use, alcoholism, and just general unhappiness.
> 
> it's kind of a character study in misery, and everybody is just generally their worst self, but it gets a bit better and that's just life tbh.
> 
> a shout-out to lica for being a horrible enabler ily. <3

**[in a day]**

 

The first time Kihyun thought he was in love seemed to be blurred in a thousand other sensations. He was high, in so many senses of the world, but as he looked at (what was his name again?) he felt as if he was being grounded to the world, being planted in the ground, finding roots that will anchor him, stabilize him.

“We did something very bad,” Yoongi said, his eyes fixed to the ceiling.

Kihyun’s mind was fuzzy, but he could agree on that much. He was still naked, still in someone else’s (Hui’s?) bed, still trying to figure out at what point he had enough energy to mark Yoongi’s with such ferocity that his neck now sported a collar of hickeys.

Right now, Kihyun wanted nothing more than to sleep till he died, and maybe a little after that. He’d been dancing all night, smoking, talking, yelling, _kissing_ and he was beyond exhausted and he could feel the sweat roll off his forehead.

“Kihyun, wait, don’t sleep,” Yoongi said, abruptly shaking him awake. His hands were so small but so firm. “We need to talk.”

“Do we have to?” Kihyun yawned. “I love talking to you, Yoongi, but I’m just… really tired.”

His mind was still racing, his heartbeat still racing, and the last thing he wanted was to _talk_.

But Yoongi did look so beautiful like this, with his eyebrows all furrowed in concentration. “Look. We just… cheated. Let’s get that out of the way.”

“Yeah. We did.” Kihyun said. Why was he bringing _that_ up now? No point ruining a good moment, they could sort everything out eventually he was sure. When he wasn’t incredibly tired and mildly intoxicated on a cocktail of alcohol and drugs.

Yoongi nodded. “I just need to know what was this to you, Kihyun?” There was such hesitation in his voice. “Because we can walk away from this right now, and I’ll apologize to him for the rest of my life, if that’s what you want? But, Kihyun I met you today, and it sounds like bullshit but I feel like there’s something here, something so rare I don’t just want to walk away and say it’s because we were at a party and we were high and looking for a warm body and a good time.”

He was looking at Kihyun so softly, so gently and all Kihyun wanted to do was lean in and kiss him. So he did, and then smiled.

“I look at you and I see our entire future, you know? I feel like we could be together forever.”

He didn’t think he was capable of such sentiment. Did he read that in a book or something? Kihyun was quite impressed with his own creativity.

If it wasn’t his own words, Yoongi certainly didn’t mind, as his face lit up.

Yoongi’s face broke into a smile so bright and wide that Kihyun wanted to drown in it.

Yeah, that’s love. Kihyun was pretty sure.

 

**[in a night]**

 

“Yoon-gi.” Kihyun suddenly remembered, breathing it out, each syllable.

The man in question laughed. “Yeah. That’s me. And you’re Kihyun, right?”

“You make really good drinks Yoon-gi,” Kihyun said, over pronouncing it to the point they both laughed again.

The music was blaring, some old eighties hit that had everyone drunk on fake nostalgia. The atmosphere was thick with smoke, cigarette and other, and Kihyun found himself think the neon lights made Yoongi’s skin look like pretty polka dots and that he wanted to press each of them.

They were in the room with the pool table, and everyone surrounding them were so _loud_ but Kihyun still felt like he could pull out the finer nuances in Yoongi’s voice even if he were on the moon.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Yoongi asked.

“I just thought that I love the way you look.”

Of course, under this lighting he wouldn’t be able to see something as subtle as a reddening of cheeks.

Which was why Yoongi pulled one of his hands to his cheeks, and Kihyun could feel how _warm_ and soft the skin underneath was.

Then, Yoongi abruptly pulled away, his face an expression of something like shock and disgust, more at himself. “You know what’s so great?”

“What?” Kihyun asked. This party? The weed? Hui? Me?

“We both are dating someone named Hoseok. That’s such a funny coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely.” Kihyun said, trying to remember where he last left Hoseok. “Yeah, that’s pretty great. Pretty cool coincidence.”

“So. Where’s yours?” Yoongi asked, and the term felt horribly awkward and lingered in the air like something physical.

Hoseok… “I think he’s at the pool table?”

“We’re at the pool table.”

Hoseok was definitely not here. “Or something? I don’t know, I didn’t come here with him. Went with a friend. And yours?”

It was still awkward.

Yoongi pursued his lips. “Not really sure. I should probably look for him.” He half-heartedly unlocked his phone. The time said 11:77 before Kihyun realized that wasn’t a real time, and burst out laughing.

“Sorry, it’s just your phone clock – god, nevermind.”

Yoongi laughed again, joining the chorus of sounds of the room. “Are you having fun?”

“So much. You’re so fun, Yoongi.”

Yoongi was staring at Kihyun. “That’s not a very common thing I hear.” Then, “You have really nice eyes.”

And to replicate the action, Kihyun took one of Yoongi’s hands and placed it on his closed eye. It took Kihyun about two seconds to realize that wait, that was _weird_ -

But Yoongi just laughed, taking his hand away. “Yeah, they’re really nice. I like them more without me covering them, though.”

Kihyun can feel the thrum of the music in his ears and in his heartbeat. He can feel the music when he looked at Yoongi. “Are you high?” he asked, and Yoongi shook his head, then to which Kihyun said “Would you like to be?”

 

**[in a day]**

 

The first time Kihyun said “I love you”, it’s like something out of a movie. Yoongi is like a painting in the way he’s draped on the sheets, the sunlight streaming on, shining on his tender flesh and it feels like the world stops turning when he opens his eyes to look at Kihyun’s.

He’s so close that Kihyun can count each eyelash individually. He stares, commits it to memory, wishing for his camera to photograph this event, but doesn’t want to move even a fraction.

He thinks that he wants to commit this memory to his mind forever, wants to tie an anchor to it and sink it to the bottom of his mind so it’ll never be forgotten. So he says something to make it memorable.

“I love you.”

Yoongi doesn’t really react, just says “I love you too”, so simply and so sincerely, bringing a hand to stroke against Kihyun’s bare collarbone. He traces a dark mark, and seems to giggle at the memory.

“You were really very loud,” Yoongi mutters, leaning forward to mouth the area again.

And what comes out of Kihyun’s mouth was something he didn’t intend. “Yeah, Hoseok tells me that all the time.”

Kihyun realized he’d fucked up before the sentence was even out of his mouth, but by that time it was too late.

Yoongi pulled off, mid-kiss, and lay back against the pillow, eyes fixed to the ceiling. His fast breathing was the only sound in the room.

Kihyun was so slow he could be mistaken for a corpse.

“Shit. Sorry.” He finally said. “Slipped out.” He added, as if that could make it all better.

That was the rule they had, this thing that unravelled between Yoongi and Kihyun, at that party they had at Hui’s house, rushed into a bathroom, because it was the only room that didn’t have people in. (by people of course, Yoongi and Kihyun knew, they were referring to their respective boyfriends.)

It was far too chemical the way Kihyun’s body reacted when Yoongi grabbed his mouth, and swallowed his words, deeply pressing into him.

_“If we’re doing this, we don’t mention them.”_

_“No, definitely not. Never.”_

_“No names. We just say we found someone new.”_

_“Yes. Yes.”_

Kihyun cringed. He followed that last rule well enough. The first one proved decidedly more difficult.

Trying to separate himself from Hoseok was far more difficult than he thought. Physically? It was a clean cut. It was one phone call (abruptly hung up on Kihyun’s end). It was a blocked number, avoiding that shop he liked, and not talking to their mutual friends.

That was easy. Kihyun didn’t _need_ to talk to anyone else when he had Yoongi. That’s what he liked to think.

The reality was harsher. Hoseok couldn’t be removed from the corner of his mind, from being in the tenor of his thoughts, for being in the words he was saying.

Even if those words were said to another man, in bed, at the first morning light.

“No. It’s- okay. It’s okay.” Yoongi finished.

His eyes were still fixed to the ceiling.

“Just slipped out.”

“Means nothing, yeah?”

“Definitely not.” Kihyun said.

Yoongi’s breathing evened out, and Kihyun jotted this incident as a ‘crisis averted’. He turned to his side and tapped his cheek until he turned to face Kihyun.

“I still love you,” Kihyun said.

 

**[in a night]**

 

Yoongi looks like he belongs on the grass, snug in his dark green jacket, eyes on the skies. He’s like a flower, Kihyun thought, and laughed at the idea in his mind.

“Kihyun, who comes to the party of the year to look at the stars?” Yoongi laughed, clenching at the grass. “You know there’s a literal jumping castle here?”

Kihyun laughed, loudly, unabashedly – it wasn’t like it even matched a fraction of the noise coming from the main house. In the distance, he could hear the splashing from the pool. He could taste the chlorine in the air.

“It just feels nice out here, doesn’t it? Wish I had my camera.”

“Do you take photos?” Yoongi asked. “Realized I never caught what you do.”

He thought of his camera, currently on Hoseok’s desk, growing dustier with each day. “I do. Mostly weddings. Lots of people get married. They all want pictures. If you get married, I could do the pictures for you.” Kihyun said.

Yoongi snorted. “Not anytime soon. Trust me. If you’re looking for a client, look elsewhere.”

“It’s hard making a living.” Kihyun pouted. The stars seemed so… different tonight, like he was seeing it for the first time.

Yoongi lay out his arm, and without thinking, Kihyun rested his head on it. They froze, yet neither moved.

“So. What about you, Ki?” Yoongi asked, trying the nickname out. “Think there’s a future for you? Will you be taking wedding selfies soon?”

“No.”

It was far too firm for the casual tone of the question. But, the truth was harsh.

Of course, Kihyun _loved_ Hoseok, it was impossible not to. It was also impossible to not feel tired three years later. It was also impossible not to find the sparkling man next to him unbelievably irresistible. Where _was_ Hoseok anyway? Kihyun considered taking out his phone to type a text out, but couldn’t find the energy to move his fingertips.

“Hui really throws the best parties, doesn’t he?” Kihyun said, finally breaking the silence.

“They always seem to have the best people,” Yoongi agreed, and his eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than the stars. “Your friend is coming now, right?”

Kihyun abruptly stood up. He texted Minhyuk about the weed nearly a half an hour ago, but had gotten so lost in the conversation with Yoongi. “Fuck, I was supposed to meet him inside. Can you… can you wait here? I’ll be like five seconds. Four.”

Yoongi sat up as well, crossing his legs, observing the shape of Kihyun carefully. “Okay. Come back soon.”

He was there when he came back.

 

**[in a day]**

 

The first time Kihyun thinks “I hate you”, it’s far too real to be comfortable and he realizes stars don’t really shine during the day, do they? They’re beautiful in the moment only.

He stumbled home from work, tripping on the sidewalk, stopping himself from planting himself (and his expensive Nikon) into the ground.

Swearing, he dropped his keys while trying to wrench it in the lock, the sound resounding in the empty corridor, and the whole time Kihyun just keeps thinking that _Yoongi was in-fucking-side this whole time and could have opened the damn door_.

He made it through the door, eventually, dumping his camera (delicately) on the front table, and while his body was in the kitchen, his mind was thinking about the weed Minhyuk dropped off this morning, probably still under the welcome hat.

He’ll drink water first, Kihyun decided. That’s healthy right? That’s what healthy people do? They drink water.

Yoongi was the unhealthiest person Kihyun ever saw, and he never drank water, so it made logical sense that this was the best thing to do.

Kihyun got as far as opening the cabinet before an empty whiskey bottle falls, shattering on his hand.

He doesn’t scream at first – the shock paralyzed him, just the sheer disbelief that something like this even _happened_. When he sees the first drop of blood come from the lacerated mess that’s his hand, that’s when he can’t control the stream of profanity.

It’s a solid minute, the time it takes Kihyun to grab a dish towel and wrap it around, before Yoongi stumbles in, sleepy and barefoot. It’s five in the fucking day, who takes a nap this time?

“Oh shit, babe-“ Yoongi began, falling to the nickname he reserved for situations where he knew he fucked up. He was about to step forward but halted upon seeing the glass fragments.

“Why the fuck are there empty bottles in the cabinet?” Kihyun said, wincing at the throbbing of his hand. The towel once eggshell white, was now vivid red.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I was supposed to clean up before you got home…” Yoongi muttered. His words are distinctly slurred and Kihyun doesn’t need to smell his breath to know the liquor which stained it.

“So you sat here, all day, drinking and couldn’t even fucking clean up after yourself? I was working _all day_ ,” Kihyun spat, more from physical pain that emotional hurt.

The drinking was normal. The bleeding, less so.

“Come on, babe, now’s not the time. Let’s go to the hospital. I’ll get…shoes.” Yoongi decided, looking around for the nearest pair.

“We can’t. I can’t.”

“Why?” Yoongi asked.

Because you can’t drive. Because we’ve been at the hospital twice this month, and they’re going to start thinking this is common, and they’re going to slip both of us pamphlets about getting help. Because I smoked earlier. Because I think being in a car ride with you might be the most awkward thing in the world.

In the end he decided for: “Because we can’t afford it.”

Yoongi didn’t attempt to argue. “Do you need anything? Maybe a disinfectant like, uh,” he trailed off.

“Alcohol?” Kihyun replied acidly.

“Surgical spirits.” Yoongi said. “I’ll get the first aid kit. Which is…”

In the kitchen. Behind Kihyun, surrounded by shards of glass. Kihyun felt amused at the way Yoongi couldn’t decide on proceeding, just awkwardly shuffling in the doorway.

“Just get me a fucking glass of water, Yoongi.”

He wasn’t sure exactly when hatred bloomed in his heart, but he knew that was the first seed.

 

They were on the couch, now, watching some show with far too beautiful people as actors. Real people didn’t look like that. Real people didn’t have smiles that plastic and bright.

The throbbing of Kihyun’s hand has dulled, and he waited for an appropriate moment to step outside and collect Minhyuk's… gift.

Yoongi looked at Kihyun, who’s eyes were fixed to the door, and laughed – short and harsh. He reached into his pocket and threw out the joints at Kihyun.

“Assume you’re looking for these? Tell your friend he needs to stop leaving them in the doormat like some fucking drug fairy.”

Kihyun’s hand closed around the joints.

“It’s unsafe and just plain _weird_. Why does he put glitter on them?” Yoongi said. “Anyway, Ki, we both know I know give a fuck how much you smoke.”

A blush stained Kihyun’s cheek. “It’s not…”

Yoongi scratched in the couch, and after removing several old chips, pulled out a lighter. “Don’t mind me.” He stood up, and put on his shoes.

“Where are you going?” Kihyun asked as Yoongi tossed the lighter to him. It was a dull orange, similar to the one Yoongi used at that party a year back.

“Well, you saw I finished my whiskey, didn’t you? I need another one.”

Yoongi snorted when he saw Kihyun’s expression. “Easy there. Don’t look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not about to cry.” Kihyun replied hotly.

“Okay, do you want to spend the rest of the night sober? We can watch episodes of whatever the fuck this is and pretend to enjoy it. I’m fine with that. Or, you can get high, and I’ll get drunk, and we can fuck later. That’s always a good time.”

Kihyun looked at the television for about three seconds before he lit the joint. He wasn’t a better person. Yoongi wasn’t either.

“See you in an hour.”

 

They didn’t fuck. By the time Yoongi finally came home, Kihyun was severely tucked into bed, the sheets clearly indenting his form.

If he really wanted to, he could have woken Kihyun up.

He didn’t.

It took Kihyun ages to fall asleep with the sharp smell of liquor right next to him. He’d never be used to it.

 

**[in a night]**

 

“Kihyun, you can’t. We can’t. You can do this to him. I can’t do this to him,” Yoongi said, breaking the kiss.

All Kihyun could think and feel and taste was _YoongiYoongiYoongi_ and he wasn’t quite done drinking yet. He ran his fingers across his collarbone, his tongue tracing where his fingertips just were, savouring the salty sweat of someone who’d spent the past few hours in a cramped room, dancing.

He didn’t see him dance, no, at the time he was with Minhyuk, but if he moved any bit like the way he moved now, he must have been some god of rhythm.

Yoongi let out a moan, it was so soft but in the cramped bathroom, it sounded like a a private musical performance. It was quite possibly the hottest thing Kihyun ever heard, until he sucked a spot on Yoongi’s neck, and the decided _that_ moan was the hottest thing he ever heard.

“Kihyun, wait, I need to know that you – _oh_ \- want this. And that you know what this means. We’re… we’re cheating.” Yoongi’s tone was distraught, and Kihyun finally ripped his mouth away and faced him, eye-to-eye.

“I think I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I think this could be the best thing I’ve ever done. I think I could live in this moment forever.” Kihyun paused, wiping his mouth. “Do you believe in fate?”

Yoongi’s answer was soft. “I thought it was fate when he and I met.”

“If it was fate, why isn’t he here now, and I am?” Kihyun said, and then didn’t say anything more, as Yoongi buried his hands in Kihyun’s hair and their lips interlocked, and all Kihyun could feel and think and taste was _YoongiYoongiYoongi_ , and he was looking forward to never growing tired of this particular delight.

Kihyun mumbled something about Hui’s bedroom on the third floor, and slips the cool metal of the key into Yoongi’s hand and he barely catches it, far too occupied with the destiny in front of him.

 

**[in a day]**

 

The first time Kihyun says I hate you, he wished he didn’t mean it. He did though. He would wear the words around a chain and sink their entire relationship to the bottom of the ocean.

He arrived early, in time to see the sun glisten off the glittering doormat, and dammit Yoongi was right, it _was_ weird. He needed to have a word with Minhyuk at some point…

Kihyun lifted it up to see a note in Yoongi’s messy handwriting.

 

_Sorry. Needed it for a party I’m going to. Figured you didn’t want to come. See you later. – Y_

 

Kihyun crumpled the note and threw it in the trash. He opened the apartment, and counted no less than six empty bottles littering the room. The TV was still on – and did that show really air _again_? If he ever had extra money, the first thing he'd do was buy cable.

And Kihyun thought that if this was what love was supposed to feel like that, it did feel a lot like hate. It never felt like this with H-

Kihyun reached for a joint that wasn’t there.

Hours passed by bitterly. He was on his laptop, editing photographs, erasing imperfections of couples on their wedding days, and pretending not to be jealous of the way they looked at their other half.

Kihyun was _not_ a man of sentiment, but if he _was_ , he would wish someone would look at him like that.

_Someone did-_

But that was hardly the point, and Kihyun looked around for a joint again, before giving up, sinking into the couch. He shut his laptop forcefully, refusing to even make eye contact with the two dimensional mockery anymore, and fixed his eyes onto the clock. Midnight had just passed, and Yoongi was still out.

Where was he? A party? It wasn’t like either of them had many friends. That was something they don’t tell you about infidelity: it leaves you with very few friends at the end of it. Yoongi suffered it worse, but even Kihyun was despondent at the way his contact list dwindled.

He only really had Minhyuk. Still, at least he spoke to Minhyuk every day. Mostly. Well, usually it was just on what he wanted for the day, and Kihyun was hardly around when he dropped it off.

But it still counted, right?

Kihyun wondered with a frown when exactly his best friend became his drug dealer. He pushed the thought to the back of the mind, which resembled more of a junkyard with each passing day.

Yoongi was bound to have left a bottle by his bedside- and ah, Kihyun did know his boyfriend well after all.

The part of him that loved the aesthetics of his depressing life wanted him to down the bottle raw and unfiltered, but the part that didn’t want his throat to feel on fire won out, and Kihyun poured in a double shot with apple juice in the kitchen. It tasted vile.

He didn’t bother turning on the light.

By the time Yoongi walked in, the bottle was empty, and Kihyun was staring into the empty space.

“Shit. Why are you still up? Are you drunk?” Yoongi asked, switching the light on.

His hands instantly covered his eyes, recoiling. “Jesus. That’s too bright.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Are you?” Kihyun said, peeking through his fingers.

Yoongi sighed. “I did come back from a party, Ki. I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”

“Who’s party was it?”

Shrugging, Yoongi removed his coat. “You don’t know her. Was a good time. They loved the joints.” He paused. “I’ll, er, drop by Minhyuk tomorrow. Pick up some extra.”

He’s missing the point, Kihyun thought, and then realized he wasn’t sure what the point was. He was committed to being angry though, and didn’t adjust his facial expression from the one of disgust.

Yoongi took out a glass from the cabinet (carefully), and filled it with water, handing it to Kihyun. “Drink up. You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. Can’t believe you went into my secret stash.”

“You went into mine.” Kihyun grumbled, accepting the water, soothing his dry mouth.

“It’s under the fucking welcome mat, Ki, as I keep reminding you.”

It was probably funny, but Kihyun’s scowl never dropped. He clutched the glass with both hands, refusing to have to bandage his hand twice in two months.

Yoongi leaned against the kitchen counter, rapping his knuckles. He inhaled deeply. “I didn’t… I didn’t cheat on you. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

That’s also what they don’t tell you. You start to worry that they’ll leave you for someone else. You know? The way they met you.

Kihyun and Yoongi discussed it at length that they met through “fate” and “destiny” and all those other buzzwords, but it was strange how meeting through fate and destiny changed into “met at a party thrown by our millionaire best friend with copious amounts of weed and alcohol”.

Kihyun exhaled. It was relief, really. Yoongi and Kihyun weren’t going to break up. It just wasn’t going to happen. “It’s so late. Let’s go to bed.”

“Actually…” Yoongi hesitated and Kihyun’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m on my way out. I just came to stop by for a shower, and then I’m on my way out. There’s a club on the other side of town that only opens at five. Real good time, I’m told. And it’s a quarter past four now, so…”

Kihyun looked up at Yoongi, at his flushed face, his heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth with an ash stain on the corner. “I think I hate you.”

Yoongi didn’t even seem shocked. Kihyun would prefer it if he was, would have preferred it if Yoongi started screaming or crying.

Instead, he sighed, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on Kihyun’s forehead, and removed the empty vodka bottle from the table and dumped it in the trash on the way out.

“I’ll see you, Ki.”

 

**[in a night]**

 

“Who’s he?” Kihyun asked, his hands shaking with the new sensation. God, why didn’t he do this before? It was weird, yeah, but _fantastic_. “This feels incredible, oh my god. Like, Minhyuk, not to be weird but right, my dick right now, feels like it’s everything?”

Minhyuk suppressed a laugh. “Mmm. Glad to hear you’re having a good time. Still feeling fine, not sick or anything?”

They were in the foyer, and through the glass windows they could see the vague outline of everyone in the house, the rumble of voice passing through. Kihyun felt like he could hear every word they were saying.

Kihyun leaned in, his nose pressing against Minhyuk's, staring into his dark eyes. “I feel amazing, Minhyuk. I’m fantastic. Man I’m great. Who’s that?”

“Your breath stinks,” Minhyuk commented, swatting Kihyun back. “That’s Yoongi.”

“I don’t know him.” That much was obvious. If Kihyun _knew_ him, he’d already be talking to him.

Minhyuk continued rolling the next joint, barely even looking at Kihyun. “I know him through Hyunwoo. He’s kind of grumpy. Dating Hoseok.”

“I thought I was dating Hoseok.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “Jesus, Kihyun, are you okay? It’s a different Hoseok.”

Yeah, that made sense. Should have thought of that before he said something else. Kihyun nodded rapidly. “Oh, I’m great. I’m fine. He’s really hot, isn’t he?”

Minhyuk just hummed in agreement. “Think this is big enough?”

“Like he’s really… really good-looking. Like… I wonder what he sounds like.” Kihyun clamped a hand to his mouth. “Shouldn’t say that aloud.”

Minhyuk’s eyes shot up to Kihyun. “No you really shouldn’t. That’s not what good boyfriends do.” Minhyuk said mildly. “Good boyfriends keep their mouths shut about how hot they find a stranger at a party, bad boyfriends cheat.”

The second Minhyuk saw Kihyun’s eyes he regretted it. “Kihyun, don’t do something stupid.”

“I never do anything stupid, Minhyuk.” Kihyun said, smiling wanly.

“Except you just smoked about a week’s worth of weed in an hour.”

“Except that,” Kihyun conceded. “Minhyuk, let me see where the night takes me. I don’t know, it’s more than just the high.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “God, you fucking stoner, it’s never more than just the high. It’s so obvious that you’re new to this.”

“It’s different!”

“Kihyun, I was literally in your exact same position before. It was three years ago…”

Minhyuk's story fades to white noise. Kihyun’s eyes are fixed on _him_ , with his floppy hair, with his grumpy expression as he watches on as some other partygoers take shots. He’s drinking from a tall glass, and his fingers wrapped around it look so firm and strong. Kihyun wondered how they’d feel wrapped in his hair.

Yoongi looked around, and locked glances with Kihyun, and maybe it was the weed, but Kihyun felt like it was literal sparks igniting in his vision. Yoongi looked away, about a second after it became longer than necessary.

He turned to Minhyuk who’s still rolling and babbling on. “You just don’t think straight, you know? Like for me I was thinking that when I look at him I feel like I can see our future, you know? Like I could be with him forever?”

Yes. Yes. God yes, that was the words he was looking for. That was what was pulling him to this man. “Yes, Minhyuk. That.” Kihyun breathed, reaching for the wall, walking on unsteady legs.

Minhyuk's hand tugged on his jeans leg. “Wait, Kihyun, what do you mean? That was an example, not fucking inspiration. Where are you going?”

“I need to go. Bathroom. I’m fine, Minhyuk. I can walk and I can talk and I can still use my phone. I don’t need to be chained to you all night.”

If Minhyuk was offended, it clearly showed. “Well then. Stay safe, I guess. Call me for _anything_. I’m responsible for you. You know Hoseok will kill me if something happens to you.”

But Kihyun was already walking away. He passed a bedroom with its key still in it. They were on the third floor, and he recalled what Minhyuk told him earlier. That must have been Hui’s room right? He must have locked it and forgot the key in the door. Well, he’d hardly want some strangers stumbling into his friend’s room would he?

(Disregarding the fact that he had only spoken to Hui twice before and probably couldn't pick him out from a line-up.)

Kihyun pocked the key and forgot about it.

 

**[in a day and a night]**

 

It’s never the same as the first time, is it? Minhyuk told him that when he rolled the first joint. The afternoon sun was still overhead, and they were some of the first to arrive, setting up in the foyer. Kihyun wasn’t sure exactly where or when Minhyuk became the unofficial party supplier, but was nevertheless glad that it came with the perk of free goods.

Of course Minhyuk gave him a lecture before he even touched the joint, and it was so un-Minhyuklike that Kihyun actually paid attention.

“It’s a good time, don’t get me wrong. Some times are better than others. Some days it’ll be so good it’ll feel like the first. But the first time really is the best you know? That’s where the danger is really – spending your whole life chasing that first high?” Minhyuk said, his hands hesitating on the orange lighter. “Look, Kihyun, it’s your choice. You said you wanted to.”

“And I do.”

“That’s fine. I’m not here to judge. I’ m just telling you to be smart and to be safe. I’m just telling you to remember the first time is always the best, and don’t get stuck in the moment.”

Kihyun had his hand outstretched for the past minute. “Pass me the lighter, Minhyuk. We’re both adults here.”

Minhyuk seemed to want to say something else but surrendered the lighter. “I know I’m being a buzzkill – I’m acting like you.”

Kihyun reached forward to smack the back of Minhyuk's head, and he laughed. “Deserved that. I just want you to have a good time.”

He pressed the joint into Kihyun’s fingers. “Okay, I’m doing being responsible. Quickly, light it up before we have to share with anyone else. It’s almost sundown and people are gonna start streaming in.”

 

* * *

 

It was the first time they fucked in about a month, and the moonlight was the only light they had. They were late with rent, and Kihyun found that very interesting when he left an envelope with the words “RENT – DO NOT SPEND” written on it.

God it was his fault. He should have just given it himself. But Kihyun was tired, and he heard that a friend of a friend’s had cable and wanted to watch some television in a place that didn’t resemble a junkyard.

He should have _known_ Yoongi would fuck up. It was different to see him face-to-face and have him admit it to Kihyun, unashamedly, not even bothering to call him ‘babe’ or pretend he wouldn’t do it next time.

Their kiss was anything but loving, and everything harsh, dark and sharp.

It was punishing, brutal and Kihyun left dark bruises on his thighs. It was almost like a map, from the exact point he started, at the base of Yoongi’s throat, all the way to the curve of his ass.

The passion died before he even pulled out. They lay back against the covers, breathing heavily, and all Kihyun could think was how Yoongi’s mouth just _always_ tasted like some kind of alcohol. He was so _sick_ of it.

He had a job now, as a bartender, and it should have made Kihyun feel better, because at least he left the damn house now - but it didn’t. It just made him wish all alcohol on the planet could be sent on a spaceship to the fucking sun. He hated the way it stuck to the back of his throat when he kissed Yoongi.

Hate was Kihyun’s new favourite emotion. The depression was fun and all, it was interesting to experiment with the numbness, but he was tired of it now. Time to reinvent himself and try new things.

Anger. That was his new thing. He liked to use the word hate, and he hated so _many_ things about Yoongi.

The way he slept in till noon, the way he only stumbled home at sunrise, how even though he wasn’t “supposed” to drink on the job he always seemed to find a way. The way his eyes rolled whenever Kihyun said he’d be working late. The mess, the mess, the fucking _mess_.

God, the mess. The unmade sheets which had crumbs littering it like fucking fairy lights. The empty bottles, the dinner trays, the ramen bowls, everything, just _left_ there. Kihyun used to clean, until he realized how _futile_ it all was. That’s all it ever was, everything was pointless and useless, and none more so than the man next to him.

Kihyun really hated Yoongi.

And the way Yoongi was looking at Kihyun, he thought they were thinking similar things.

Yoongi run his hand through Kihyun’s hair, something like affection, but not quite there yet. “Would you go back in time and stop yourself talking to me?”

“Yes.” Kihyun wished he’d thought to hesitate before answering.

“Yeah. I’d do the same.” Yoongi pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead. “We could always quit.”

“We don’t quit, do we?” Kihyun asked.

And then Yoongi was smirking with fangs. “No. We don’t. We didn’t come this far to quit just because little things like love vanished.”

Of course. There it was. It was things like that which reinforced that idea that his delusional past self had. They really were like two sides of the same coin. It was fate. No one else would understand them but they understood each other.

“Are we openly hating each other now?” Kihyun asked, perhaps sarcastically.

“Weren’t we always?” Yoongi said, slotting a leg between Kihyun’s thighs and propping himself over him.

He was not wrong.

“You know what the worst thing about this is?” Yoongi said.

“The wasted time, the drug addiction, the debt?” Kihyun replied, because two can play at that game, and Kihyun dug his nails into Yoongi’s skin and pulled a moan, kissing it out of him.

“Ha, nice one,” Yoongi said, pushing him off. “No, I think the worst thing about this, is that in your mind, I’m the villain right? I was the one who pushed you off track, who ruined your perfect life you were having with your perfect man?”

He moved off now, leaned his neck back, and laughed. His hand reached for a half-finished joint on the nightstand, and the lighter. It was orange.  

“I’m the reason for all of this, right?” Yoongi asked, taking a drag, letting it settle before exhaling. “I’m the nocturnal masochistic alcoholic who ruined you?”

He wasn’t asking. He was stating.

“But, Kihyun? To me? You’re the drug-addicted emotionally constipated homewrecker who ruined me.”

Yoongi looked straight at Kihyun as he turned the joint over in his hands. “But you wouldn’t think that right? You just see this from your perspective, don’t you?”

Inhaling again, this time he let the smoke drift out in ribbons, filling the air. “I don’t blame you, Ki. It’s just how it is. We can’t change the past. But we can look at the future without that self-righteous stick up your ass.”

He dropped the joint on the bed, the ashes staining the sheets.  Standing up, Yoongi rubbed his eyes, walking away from the light of the window.

“Next time you’re thinking about how you threw away your future? Just remember you were the one who approached me. You were very forward then. I wonder if you still are.”

 

**[when the night turns to day]**

 

“Hi. Hey there. Hello.” Kihyun asked, nearly tripping over his feet. Yoongi had left the girls taking the shots, and was now in the lounge. A sports game was on the television, and absolutely no one was watching, all far too involved in the intense game of Twister taking place in front of them.

Yoongi looked at Kihyun, distastefully. “Are you lost? I don’t have anything on me.”

He was standing in the corner, one eye on the Twister game, one on the television, and not particularly interested in either, besides sipping his drink.

“No. Nothing like that!” Kihyun said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I just saw you standing here. Thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi.” Yoongi said, monotonously.

When no further conversation came, Kihyun put on what he hoped was a bright smile (but that may have come off as more demonic). Conversation starters, right, he could do this, he could converse.

He became distracted from his initial goal (which was just a vague desire to speak to him) by a sudden whoop as one of the Twister players fell on her ass, and the laughter rose.

“Do you want to play? I think they’re having another round after she relocates her shoulder back to its correct position,” Yoongi said dryly and Kihyun burst out laughing.

He seemed surprised at that reaction, and Yoongi gave his first soft smile of the night and Kihyun already loved it. His lips were really curvy-

Not that he was looking at his lips, of course. That’s ‘not what good boyfriends do’, right?

“I’m Yoongi,” he finally said to which Kihyun stupidly replied. “I know.”

He immediately attempted to cover his mistake. “You just seem like that kind of person, you know? A Yoongi?”

Yoongi downed the rest of the class, recoiling as it hit his throat. “God, you’re so out of it. Where are your friends? Are you here alone?”

“No, I’ve got people.” Kihyun assured him.

Yoongi grunted dismissively. “Not good people if you’re out here talking to a random stranger.”

“You’re also standing here alone.”

This seemed to stun Yoongi, because he finally turned to look at Kihyun, wholly, with his full attention, the Twister game nothing but background noise. “Hmph.”

They exchange pleasantries – (“how do you know Hui?” to which Yoongi replies with “I don’t.”) and talk about the weather (“warm for September.”) and the sports game on the TV (“do you know who’s playing?” “not at all”.)

It’s light, it’s breezy and it feels nice, but Kihyun was growing bored of standing in a corner while other people were having fun.

“Want a drink?” Kihyun asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

“I pour my own. I also pour stronger than you can probably handle.” Yoongi said, waving his empty glass.

Kihyun, who thought cider was a “bit strong”, decided the correct response was: “Try me.” and Yoongi appeared to be _quite_ happy with that.

They were intercepted twice on the way to the kitchen, once by a friend of Yoongi’s, and the second by Hyunwoo who was dripping wet, making a mess of the tiles.

“If you’re looking for Hoseok, he’s by the pool,” he said, rushing past, the water traces the only sign he was even there.

Yoongi who was looking at Kihyun for clarification, coughed pointedly.

“My boyfriend.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised but he didn’t comment further. “Ah. I also am dating someone named Hoseok.”

“I don’t think it’s the same one,” Kihyun said.

“Yes, I don’t think so either. He doesn’t like my drink concoctions, so I’m quite interested to see what you think.” He said, holding back a laugh. “Come on, you wanted to try one of my drinks right or have you backed out?”

And then they drank, and then they laughed, and then spoke, and then laughed again, and then smoked, and then kissed, and then fucked, and then fell in love, and then moved in together, and then fell out of love, and it seemed far too powerful to have come from one single night, the world shouldn’t change because of one single night but it did, it did, it did-

The world shouldn't change just because of one conversation. Right?

 

* * *

 

Kihyun stood outside a familiar door at the first rays of sunrise. He knocked once, he knocked twice, he knocked three times. And then it opened, and Kihyun looked up and said:

“Hoseok? Can we talk?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> goes without saying but i humbly apologize to min yoongi for what a terrible person he's written as in this fic. 
> 
> comments and kudos much appreciated. you can find me on tumblr @minhyukwithagun <3


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